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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Feeling Lucky - 1. Chapter 1

So, I’m Lucky.

People tell me luck follows me around.

Add that to my name being Lucento and there you are, `people call me Lucky.

But most people don’t mention the kind of luck that follows people like me. Usually, they assume it’s good luck, but that’s not true. It seems to be both kinds of luck. I’ve been pretty blessed in life, I think my good luck has definitely outweighed the bad. It seems more like weird and unlikely shit just happens to me, good or bad. Mostly good. Mostly.

Like when I was seventeen and I caught a really fucking rare disease that attacked some of my guts. Bad luck, I was told. One in a few million chance. I made a full recovery, though, also rare and lucky. I ended up with a fancy artificial liver, spleen, and kidney. They are supposed to be better than the real thing. I can drink anyone under the table now. The drug therapy and my shiny fake organs did some interesting things to my body and metabolism. I'm a little stronger and faster than a regular guy, and I will always be able to eat whatever the hell I want and I won’t get fat. That last part pisses my sister off. She hates dieting. She says I have all the luck.

My luck means that me and gambling tend to get along pretty well. I learned early to decide beforehand just how much I’m willing to lose and quit when I hit that point. That tends to keep me out of trouble. I also try to quit when I’m ahead. If I hit big I’m done for the night. I take my winnings and bail.

Anyone who does much of any gambling will have visited the planet I where I was ported. Endiku had a thriving and extremely regulated gambling and casino industry. Their laws covered every game of chance that could or would be played there. They enforced them, as well. There was no shady underground mafia running things. The government and cops kept a tight leash on things and enjoyed their small cut of every winning.

The little card game I was engaged in was just as regulated as anything else on Endiku. I was doing pretty well, well enough that I was starting to piss off the guy whose credits I kept winning. I didn’t feel bad. He was a Vortan. Call me an Earth-centric bigot or whatever, but Vortans were icky. They were all fat, which I don’t give a shit about. Their skin was variations of the colors of baby poop. I’d extensively babysat my neice when she was itty bitty, so I was well-versed in the wide possible range of pretty fucking gross colors possible for a Vortan. This one was kind of mustardy green-brown. His garish purple satin shirt and pants didn’t complement his coloring in the least. Vortans were also greasy and smelly. Which is why I was sitting in the chair furthest from him. They were also known to have questionable morals. Hate against other planets’ species isn’t uncommon, but racism is. Vortans were racist motherfuckers to their own and worse with other species. They even had another sentient species native to their planet that was almost entirely enslaved. It was one of the few “civilized” planets where slavery was still legal, though I’ve heard there are still people bought and sold on the black markets. Nasty stuff the Vortans would likely approve of. Generally, they were just complete dickbags; sexist, racist, rude, cruel, amoral dickbags. Outside of Endiku, I couldn’t imagine a situation where I’d willingly play cards with a Vortan. They cheat. Endiku’s monitoring system and harsh punishments for infractions like cheating made it a relatively safe place to gamble with a Vortan.

Well, except for the smell and the obnoxious conversation. The conversation was made through a translator. Most Vortans refused to learn other languages, even Universal, which was a pretty common one and had been created to be straightforward to learn and use. That meant that most Vortans either dealt exclusively with their own kind or they had translators. Some translators were slaves, others were hired. I couldn’t imagine wanting to work with the Vortans, so I hoped the pay was good.

I preferred sitting next to the Uinen beside me. It was harder to feel good about taking the Uinen’s credits. They have big puppydog eyes and they tend to cry easily. Don’t get me wrong, I took her credits, I just didn’t feel great about it. She must have had a similar rule to my own about when to quit losing, because she folded out after the next hand. This seemed to make the Vortan unaccountably pissed. Whatever. He would either run out of credits and quit or he’d start winning and I’d quit while I was ahead. Unfortunately, the latter was what started to happen. When I saw my luck turning I tapped out and got ready to head. It was late.

The Vortan wasn’t pleased, which his translator made known.

“Slimy Earthan, running away the moment things get too warm.”

“First of all, I’m not slimy.” I sighed. “Second of all, it’s late. I want my bed.”

The Vortan just sneered at me.

“Fine, one more hand. Then I’m out.” I settled back into my seat. I’d sacrifice a few credits if it meant Captain Dickbag would shut his hole.

Apparently my luck hadn’t run out. The cards had me taking all but a few of the credits in front of him.

“Thanks for the game.” I nodded to the Vortan who was fondling the few chits he had left.

The Vortan spouted something grouchy-sounding.

“Wait.” The translator barked. “One more game.”

“Dude, you’re done.” I waved a dismissive hand at the table. “You’ve got nothing left to play.”

“You are a trader, let’s make things interesting.” The translator smoothly spoke for the Vortan, pausing occasionally to listen to the stinky being. “My hold is overflowing with goods, and if I know Earthans, yours is recently emptied.”

It was true. I’d just finished a run. I wasn’t completely bottomed out, I had some goods, but I hadn’t filled up again. I was on my way to New Pallas after this. I figured I’d pick up something quick and easy before I left or I’d just go light and hope for the best.

“This is the contents of my hold.” I was told while the Vortan pulled a comp out of his pocket and shoved it towards me.

The little screen switched to Universal when I picked it up. I recognized most of the items on the screen. Some were things I hadn’t heard of. Some had descriptions too vague for me to decipher. A monetary value was next to each. It was a nice haul. I can admit I was a little jealous.

“Okay, good for you.” I slid the comp back to him, bumping his chits.

The Vortan grumbled.

“One more hand.” The translator said stiffly. “I will bet whatever will fit in your hold from my own and you will bet everything you’ve won tonight.”

“Pfft. No way.” I leaned back in my chair. “Your hold is bigger than mine. You could just give me your shit castoffs and keep the shiny things for yourself. How about you bet the contents of your hold that will fit in mine, starting with the items tagged as most valuable. I’ll bet half the credits I won tonight.”

The Vortan’s ugly face tightened in anger as he slammed a fist onto the table.

A low growl rolled up from the floor beside me. Tall triangular ears could be seen over the table first as the beast that had been napping next to me stood. Pale gray eyes followed, piercing the alien across from me. When he had stood entirely, a growling mouth full of frighteningly pointed teeth was clearly visible above the table.

“I think Roki doesn’t like how loud and grumpy you are,” I commented.

The Vortan’s poop-skin went a little pale in the face of my snarling companion but he kept his composure.

“That’s a Moxxu beast, isn’t it? Those are rare enough, you throw your pet in with your bet and you have a deal.”

Roki growled louder. I rested a gentle hand on his broad head.

“He’s not my pet, he’s my friend. My friends aren’t up for bet or sale.” I scratched behind Roki’s ear. “You have my offer. Take it or leave it.”

Roki calmed a little. He knew I’d never bet him, but it’s always nice to hear. Roki was another one in a billion chance for me. I’d ended up on Moxxu, which is a jungle planet full of humidity and bugs the size of my head. Not my cup of tea usually. I really just wanted to get my run done and get out. A series of odd circumstances led to a very unpleasant run through the jungle, a near-poisoning, a tattoo on my hip, and the rescue of a young Moxxu beast. I also got laid by a tour guide and the tattoo artist… at the same time. It was an interesting trip.

Afterward the young but not so little beasty wouldn’t leave my side. They resemble dogs, but are a damn sight smarter. Some classify them as sentient. So, I did my best to talk it over with him to let him make an informed decision about coming with me. He came and hasn’t shown any desire to go back home. If he does I’ll take him. He’s got maybe another ten years before we have to worry about him having a heat, he may want to go back or at least make a few conjugal visits when that time rolls around. We’ll worry about it then.

And I say he resembles a dog, but Roki resembles a dog in the way an Earthan housecat resembles a tiger. The form is similar to a dog or wolf; big pointy ears, long floofy tail, four legs, a muzzle, and a cold wet nose. He’s also big. I’m a pretty tall guy and when he puts his front paws on my shoulders he can stare me in the eye. When you looked at him, though, you could clearly see this was no dog. The teeth were too big and too sharp in a muzzle that was awfully expressive. He’s a pretty beast, with soft medium-length fur in a mottled brown and black that was striking against his pale gray eyes. It was a pain in the ass brushing him every day, but he was my best friend. I could handle some fur on the floor.

He was also very handy to have at my back. Moxxu beasts were scary as fuck when they wanted to be.

The Vortan quickly swallowed his temper and Roki stopped growling, but didn’t lay back down on his pillow. I petted his soft head.

“Very well.” The translator spoke. “I accept. One more hand on those terms.”

It sounded good to me. Even if I lost I was well ahead of what I’d thought I might win tonight. If I won it looked to be a nice score. The dealer, provided by the casino, had already buzzed for a monitor attendant. They had to do some fancy things since we were playing for goods now. They would verify the existence of the goods, that they were available to be transferred to my ship if I should win, the space available in my hold, their cut of the winnings, blah, blah, blah. It took a couple of minutes and we were ready to play.

I almost won. The Vortan saw it coming and made a very stupid mistake.

He tried to cheat.

The dealer didn’t look amused. The monitor attendant who rushed in with several cops didn’t look amused either. The alarm that was going off didn’t sound amused. Roki was covering his ears with his paws, because fuck that alarm was loud. He wasn’t amused.

Me, though, I was amused as hell. I knew the law pretty well here. Having a sister who was an interplanetary lawyer had its perks. She always sent me little tidbits of planetary laws that she thought I might find useful for business or personal reasons. That meant I knew that I had automatically won the game since my opponent had cheated. I knew that his little device that he’d tried to use to alter his cards was highly illegal on Endiku as was his attempt to use it. I also knew that he was going to be a very sad Vortan when the Endiku justice system was done with him.

I was delighted.

The Endiku authority was gracious and apologetic when I made my short statement as they dragged off the raging Vortan. They verified my identity and promised my winnings from the Vortan’s hold would be delivered in an expedited fashion to hopefully minimize any unpleasantness this unfortunate situation had caused and they sincerely hoped I would return again to Endiku. I was even given a free ticket to the grand buffet and a show in the casino for the next time I visited. Fancy.

Sure enough, my hold was packed by the time Roki and I made it back to my ship. They had my statement and info, so I was free to go. I might have stayed the night and crashed to sleep right away, but I didn’t want the cops to decide maybe they wanted to talk to me some more or double check that they got their full cut of my winnings, so I decided to head out. I’d get up and out, set my auto, and then get some shut-eye.

Endiku’s port was pretty well organized, so it didn’t take long to get clearance to depart. Roki was yawning, and so was I, by the time I had the auto set for New Pallas. We passed the doors to the hold on the way to my cabin. It took me a moment to notice Roki had stopped in front of them. I walked back and scratched his head how he likes it.

“Come on, buddy. I’m beat.” I yawned again. “We can look at the new shiny things after we sleep.”

Roki looked at me then crouched to sniff under the door. His big tail floofed a little, letting me know something had gotten his attention. He stepped back and reared up, smacking the panel with a paw to open the door.

“Or we can look at the new shiny things now,” I sighed, following him into the hold.

I whistled softly when I looked around. The Endiku were efficient packers. They had really loaded me up nicely. Checking this stuff in was going to be like Solstice Day. Roki was sniffing around crates and boxes of all different sizes. He finally stopped at one and blew a harsh breath out his nose. He plopped on his butt next to the thing and looked at me expectantly.

“Fine. I’ll open that one, but then I’m going to bed.” I conceded. “Is it filled with steaks or something?”

The crate was taller than me but not as wide as it was tall. It needed a code to open, which was conveniently in my comp when I checked. Sweet Endiku, so thorough. I punched it in, curious as to what treat it contained to so interest Roki.

It wasn’t steaks or squeaky toys revealed when the crate slid open. It was a person. A person in what looked like an extremely uncomfortable and compromising position.

Fuck.

His eyes were closed and his skin was pale where it wasn’t covered in blood. Was he dead? Shit. A dead guy bound up in a crate was the last goddamned thing I needed.

As I reached in to check for a pulse the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen fluttered open and caught me. We both were frozen for a moment, staring. Then I heard an odd whirring noise and those eyes snapped closed as he began to scream through the gag strapped into his mouth. As my eyes whip across him, desperately trying to see what’s making him shriek like that, all I can think is how lucky I am.

Yeah, real fucking lucky. I could use less of this luck.

Copyright © 2016 Rambling Robin; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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